Picking Up The Pieces
by AlyssaBlack96
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, their lives were in ruins. What happened the next day?
1. Chapter One

**Hi guys. This is a little piece I wrote a couple of years ago and just found. I wrote it because I felt that there should have been another chapter, after the battle, to explain what happened next. I figured I'd give it a go and see what people thought. Please review and say whether I should continue or not!**

Harry Potter woke up in his dormitory room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry alone. He opened his eyes to stare at the roof of his four-poster bed and he knew.

It was over.

He didn't remember how he had got there last night – no, scratch that, that morning – but he knew, in his heart of hearts, that he had done it. He had finally vanquished the Dark Lord and it was over.

_So why_, he thought to himself, _aren't I relieved_? He sighed, knowing the answer. It was the deaths. The dead pressed in on him, reminding him that, though they had succeeded, it was a pyrrhic victory. That was why he could not be relieved, or happy; because he had lost too much.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position and clutched his chest as pain lanced through him. Grimacing, he stood up and staggered to the bathroom, gratefully picking up a bundle of clean clothes, toiletries and a towel on the way.

He dropped the pile on the floor when he reached the bathroom, and stared at his reflection in one of the giant mirrors. He looked like he had been to hell and back – which, in a way, was accurate. After all, he had died yesterday…

He looked away, realising that it might be unhealthy to stare at his haggard reflection for so long, and stripped, before climbing into the shower with a sigh of relief.

The hot water stung as it hit his chest, and he glanced down, before looking away, frowning. In the middle of his chest, right over his heart, exactly where the second killing curse had hit him, was a burn mark. It looked nasty and seemed to not be healing properly, but at least it wasn't in the shape of a lightning bolt, he decided ruefully.

At least no one would stare at this one.

After his shower, and after he had brushed his teeth and got himself as clean as he could be, he examined himself slowly. He ached all over from the various cuts and bruises he had, but at least the burn was his only serious wound. He had a cut on his cheek and a split lip, but they were pretty much healed over, and were no longer bleeding. He would get Hermione to heal them, he decided, and quickly put the clean clothes on.

He had to go downstairs, now, he realised. He had to go downstairs and face everyone… And face that some people were never coming back.

Remus. Tonks. Fred. Colin. The fifty other people who had died the night of May 2nd. Then he sighed and thought back, to all of the people who had died for this war. Mad-Eye. Dobby. Hedwig. Those had died in the last year, alone. Before that: Cedric. Sirius. Lily and James Potter. All of the first Order of the Phoenix who had lost their lives.

Dumbledore.

That man, Harry thought as he dried his hair and searched around for his wand, had been full of secrets. But not the secrets Harry had thought he had been full of. No, Albus Dumbledore had been a great man. He had done bad things, in his youth, but he had realised that he had been wrong. He had realised and done something about it…

Harry sighed, and the door to the dormitory opened. His best friend's red head poked inside, and he struggled to smile at the young man, who wasn't smiling either. He had red, swollen eyes from crying, and had various cuts and bruises.

They stared at each other for a moment, before something inside of Harry broke and he reached out, pulling his best friend into a rib-cracking hug.

"Ron," he said, fighting back tears as he gripped the man, "I'm so sorry, mate."

"I know, Harry," Ron Weasley replied, hugging his friend just as tightly. A tear dripped down his nose, but neither pulled apart or got embarrassed. They didn't need to be; they were brothers, both mourning the loss of at least one family member.

When they finally did pull back, it was to stare at each other with sad eyes. "It wasn't your fault, Harry," Ron said, being unusually perceptive for him. "It wasn't your fault."

Harry bowed his head. He disagreed, but he wouldn't argue with the man who had just lost his big brother. That was just disrespectful.

"Come on, mate," Ron said when it became clear Harry wasn't going to say anything. "Hermione's downstairs; she wants to see you."

Harry smiled at the prospect of seeing his other best friend. Ron put an arm around his shoulders and began to guide him downstairs. Harry then said, cheekily, "So, you and Hermione, then?"

Ron went red. "Bloody Hell. I suppose so… I mean, we kissed, but we haven't really thought about it. What with Fred…"

"Oh," Harry said. "Yeah."

Ron sighed. "George isn't doing well. Neither is Mum, to be honest. Dad's doing better than expected. He's just there for her, you know? Bill and Fleur are okay, they have each other. Charlie… well, he's devastated. Keeps saying stuff like he 'should have been there sooner'. I tell him he's an idiot, but he ignores me. Percy… well, I would never have thought it but he's all apologetic, and he's back. Thank Merlin for that, because I don't know what Mum would do if she lost another kid."

Harry nodded his support as the two made their way down, but didn't ask what seemed most pressing for him – how was Ginny?

Ron shot him a look as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and then scratched his ear. "Ginny's okay, too. Upset, but she's stronger than you'd think."

Harry smiled grimly. "Ginny is the strongest person I know."

"That's nice to know," came a voice from the other side of the room. Harry's head shot up, staring at the girl he loved, who stood up from where she had been sitting next to Hermione and stared at him. "Harry."

"Ginny," he breathed. They stared at each other for a long moment, before he said, "Hi."

Then the famous red-headed, Weasley temper showed through. "Hi?" she asked, incredulous. "Hi? Is that all you can say to me after ten months? _Hi_? You come back here, after ten months of _nothing_, after me watching you _die_, and you say 'hi'? Harry James Potter, I can't tell you how mad I am at you! I thought you were _dead_! I thought you were _gone_! _And you say_ '_hi'_?"

Harry winced, but he let her get it out of her system. He wasn't going to stop her from ranting at him if she wanted. Merlin knew, he deserved it.

She stopped, breathing heavily, then threw herself across the room and into his arms, saying, "Never do that to me again!"

Harry winced as he caught her, pain lancing through him as she hit his chest, and she realised instantly. "What's wrong? Harry? Are you hurt?"

"A little," he admitted, taking a seat slowly. Worried, Ginny pulled his shirt away from his chest to see the burn.

"Harry!" she exclaimed upon seeing it. "Why didn't you tell us?"

He smiled ruefully. "Well, Gin, I would have, but you were yelling at me," he pointed out, and she went red, looking like she was about to cry. "Oh, Ginny, I didn't mean it. I'm okay, you know."

She stifled a sob. "I'm so sorry-"

Harry cut her off by putting a finger to her lips. "Don't apologise. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I'm so sorry, Ginny, for putting you through that. If there had been any other way, I would have."

"You have nothing to apologise for," she said around his finger. "Maybe we should get you to Madam Pomfrey?"

"I'm sure she has more important cases to be worrying about," Harry said firmly. "I'm fine. It's just a burn, anyway."

Ginny sighed, but gave in (well, there was a first time for everything and he knew not to expect it again). Then she took the seat beside him and Harry returned his shirt to its original place and he smiled at his other best friend. "Hey, Hermione."

"Hey, Harry," she replied, smiling a little. "Did you sleep okay?"

Harry snorted. "If I said like the dead, would it be in bad taste?"

"Yes," all three replied at the same time, so he simply said, "I slept okay, then. And you?"

Hermione looked sad. "I slept okay, too," she said in a quiet voice.

"We have to go downstairs, soon," Ginny told Harry softly. "Kinsgley wants everyone downstairs. All of the- the bodies have been taken away by family members, to where they will be buried. Funerals are being arranged."

"Oh, right," Harry said. He looked down and examined his fingers, shame coursing through him. This was all his fault… "Why are we going downstairs?"

"To talk about the future," Hermione explained.

"To eat dinner," Ron muttered, and Harry shot him an amused look. "What? I'm-"

"Hungry," Harry and Hermione supplied for him.

He smiled, but it was a sad smile. The four of them stood up and made their way to the portrait hole, walking out into the devastation that surrounded them outside. "Where is everyone?" Harry asked, looking around. Gryffindor common room had been empty, too, now that he thought about it…

"Probably already downstairs," Hermione said. "We were waiting for you."

"You should have woken me," Harry said with a frown. "I didn't mean to keep everyone waiting."

"Wake you?" Ron said with a laugh. "And face the wrath of every female in Hogwarts? Not likely, mate. We would have been killed for even thinking it. You 'needed your sleep', apparently."

"Mum said that no one was to bother you after you collapsed outside of Dumbledore's office," Ginny added.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, confused. "I collapsed? I don't remember…"

Hermione shot him a worried look. "Yeah, you kind of just… fell over. After you fixed your wand and we left, you just sort of…"

"Collapsed," finished Ron. "So we levitated you up to your dorm room, figuring there was nothing wrong internally and you simply needed some sleep. Merlin knows I needed some."

Harry grimaced, embarrassed. "Oh, right. Cheers."

Ginny sighed, next to him, and he automatically took her hand. She smiled up at him, but it was a sad smile. He didn't need to ask her what was wrong; he already knew.

They reached the Great Hall quickly, and everyone turned to look at them as the four entered. Harry grimaced again, and baulked slightly as everyone stood up, but no one started cheering, or clapping, or anything. They stood as a sign of respect for what would forever be known as the golden trio (or so Harry hoped – that it was a sign of respect for all of them, that is, not just him).

Kingsley stood, too, and gestured for the four of them to come forwards and join him. When Harry hesitated, Ginny pulled him through the crowd to join the temporary minister.

"Harry," Kinsgley said in his low voice. "Thank you for coming. Thank you for everything."

Harry shifted, uncomfortable. "It wasn't really me, Minister. It was everyone. I just…"

"Finished the fight that began over twenty years ago?" he suggested. "Saved the rest of us?" When Harry said nothing, Kinsgley gave him a small, sad smile. "If it wasn't for you, Harry, the rest of us would be dead, too. If it wasn't for your sacrifice, we would all have fallen."

Ginny squeezed his hand, gently, and Harry looked down at her. "If I hadn't done it, Minister, I dare say someone else would. One of those two, probably," he suggested, pointing at Ron and Hermione, who looked equally embarrassed. "Or Neville."

The man in question stood over at one side of the hall, with Luna and the Patil twins, alongside several professors. He looked abashed as everyone turned to stare at him at Harry's words, but gave a little wave. Harry would have grinned if he could have found the strength inside him to do so.

"You are too modest, Mr Potter," Kinsgley said quietly. "Well, now that Harry's here, let's eat."

"Here, here," several people said heartily, and everyone turned to the feast that appeared (as if by magic) on the long tables. Ginny led Harry to the Gryffindor table, where the Weasleys were already sitting, and were being joined by Neville, Luna and several other members of the D.A.

"Harry!" Mrs Weasley cried as she stood up. She hurried forwards and hugged him tightly, already sobbing as Mr Weasley stood up to join her. "Oh, Harry, dear, I thought- But, I'm being silly. Oh, it's so good to have you back! Thank you for taking care of my son, Harry."

"Oh," Harry said, shooting Ron and Hermione a look screaming, 'help'. They just left it to him, so said, "Well, to be honest, Mrs Weasley, if it wasn't for Ron, I would be dead. He saved my life. So you should be thanking him, really."

She just sobbed, smiling at him through red eyes as Mr Weasley wrapped his arm around her and pulled her, gently, away. "Now, now, Molly, I'm sure Harry would like to be able to eat something. Why don't we all sit down and do just that?"

"Oh, yes," Mrs Weasley replied, absently. They all sat down, and Mr Weasley leaned over the table to shake Harry's hand. "Welcome back, son."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, respectfully. He scanned the table, nodding to Bill and Fleur, who waved at him. He smiled at Charlie and Percy, looked passed Ron, Hermione and Ginny, and greeted Neville, waved to Luna and Cho Chang. He saw Seamus Finnegan, the Patil twins, Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner. Further down the table sat Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Lee Jordan, who had joined the battle at some point in the night.

Harry looked at Hermione, who knew instinctively who he was looked for. She shook her head, sadly. "He… didn't feel up to coming."

Everyone glanced between the two of them as Harry looked down, swallowing back the pain. Poor George… how would he live without his other half? But Harry gritted his teeth and looked back up. "How is Lavender doing?"

Hermione's eyes filled with silent tears and she shook her head wordlessly. Ron swallowed, also looking away, and Ginny tightened her grip on Harry's arm.

"Right," he muttered. "Wow."

"If only we'd gotten there sooner," Hermione whispered, tearfully. "Oh, I can't believe she's gone…"

Ron put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. "You did all you could, Hermione."

"We all did," Ginny added suddenly, looking at Harry with all too perceptive eyes. She could see how he blamed himself, and didn't like it one bit. "We all did everything we could," she repeated.

Harry kissed the top of her head and started to eat, at first for something to do but then because he was actually hungry. The others, taking this as their cue, also began to dig in.

The food was its usual excellent quality, but Harry couldn't enjoy it. He felt ripped apart inside, mourning loss after loss. He didn't feel up to losing another person.

Ginny nudged him and he looked down at her beautiful face, fighting back tears. "It's alright to cry, Harry," she told him in a soft voice. "It's alright to mourn them."

But Harry shook his head. "If I cry now, Gin, I don't know how long it will take me to stop."

Sadly, the girl he loved nodded and placed her head on his shoulder. They held each other wordlessly for a long time, before Kinsgley called them to attention.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"If I could have your attention," Kinsgley called. Silence spread through the hall and the people all turned to stare at their new Minister for Magic. "We have quite a lot of business to discuss.

"First off," he started, "We need to discuss what shall be happening here at Hogwarts. If you will all agree, I have named Professor Minerva McGonagall as Headmistress of the school. Does anyone have any objections to this?" No one objected; in fact, people cheered at this announcement.

Kinsgley smiled and went on. "We need to make a large amount of repairs to the school, of course, but students still have lots to learn and OWL and NEWT exams to sit. This being so, we have decided to close the school for two weeks, to clear it up and restore it to normal. If anyone would be willing to stay and help, assistance is needed. Please see Professor Sprout afterwards to put your name on the list. Even the smallest of help is useful."

Kinsgley sighed and moved on. "The Ministry of Magic is in ruins. The entire wizarding world has been turned upside down over the past year, and so we need patience. The Ministry is being combed through as we speak for those who are Death Eaters or Death Eater supporters, and Azkaban shall soon have a lot more inhabitants." A huge cheer went up at that, too. "This being so, it means that we need volunteers to come in and simply keep the Ministry running. If you are willing to help us, please speak to me afterwards and we shall see how we can fit you in.

"As for the Muggleborn registration committee, it has been disbanded. Every muggleborn who is in Azkaban currently are being released, and please accept the Ministry's most sincere apologies for the atrocities that have been committed. Being a muggleborn is not against the law, or a crime."

More cheers went up at that and people were hugging each other. Kinsgley smiled, observing the celebrations for a moment before he cleared his throat and began to speak again. "We have a lot to rebuild, and a lot to re-learn. We have let darkness encroach upon the light of good magic, and this is unforgivable. We must work together to rebuild our society, this time on sturdier foundations. So now, before I turn over the floor to others and other business, I suggest a toast: to a better future!"

Everyone lifted their glasses and drank, repeating, "The future!" with fervour. Then Kinsgley stepped aside and everyone began talking – planning.

Harry was quite content to allow others to make decisions at first, but then realised that he should say something about Snape – and Voldemort's body. He wanted to be part of those decisions. So when a lull in the conversation next appeared, he turned around to face the hall and stood up. He cleared his throat and everyone stared at him expectantly.

"First off," he said, trying to get his voice to carry across the hall, "I would like to thank everyone who fought here last night, and everyone who fought Voldemort's rule over the last year. It's because of you that he is gone; never forget that." Everyone cheered and Harry waited for them to quieten down before he spoke again, this time a lot more seriously.

"A lot of people have suffered over the last year at the hands of the Carrows. This is, and always will be, unacceptable and we shall never let this happen again. But what a lot of people don't realise is that Professor Snape was not as evil as everyone supposed," he said, a lot more eloquently than he thought he ever could manage, to a lot of gasps and shock.

"Snape was evil!" someone yelled. Another person added, "He killed Dumbledore."

Harry swallowed and yelled over the shouting, "Guys, hear me out!" The shouting stopped and he shifted, uncomfortable, before saying, "Like I said last night, Professor Snape was never Voldemort's. From the moment Voldemort threatened Lily Potter, Severus Snape belonged to Dumbledore. A lot of people don't remember, but he was my mother's best friend at school. When she was murdered, Snape came over to our side and has served here faithfully.

"I know it's hard to believe," he added at the noises of disbelief. "But I'm telling you the truth. Snape did kill Dumbledore, but it was at Dumbledore's command. He knew he was dying, and he also knew that Voldemort had charged Draco Malfoy with killing him. Dumbledore, in order to save Draco Malfoy's soul, arranged for Snape to kill him, thus proving Snape's loyalty to Voldemort."

Harry stopped and took a deep breath, catching sight of Malfoy in the crowd. The pale boy looked horrified, but he nodded with respect to Harry. Harry nodded back, then carried on. "Severus Snape was a good man. He was the bravest man I ever knew, and he gave up everything for love. So I want him to be honoured as the brave man he was, rather than vilified as a monster."

Kingsley nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at McGonagall. "You argue most persuasively, Harry," McGonagall said. "I agree."

"Do you have proof, Harry?" Kinsgley asked.

Harry hesitated. "Not any I'm willing to share publicly, but I would be willing to swear that I am telling the truth."

Kinsgley nodded. "Very well. We need more discussion on this, but I think we can all agree with what you are saying. Was there anything else?"

"Voldemort's body," Harry said. "What are you planning?"

"He doesn't deserve a burial," someone snapped. "That scum."

Harry looked down, but didn't disagree. In his mind's eye, he could still see Merope Gaunt's desperate face. He knew that he wanted to bury Voldemort, and where, and he knew it wasn't for him, but for his mother that he wanted to do so.

"He might have been evil," Harry said, and everyone quieted down. "He might have not even been human really. But he needs to be buried. We need to end it, for once and for all."

"What do you suggest, Harry?" Kinsgley asked. "This is your area of expertise."

"We should take him back to where this all started," Harry said decisively. "No ceremony, but we should bury him in Little Hangleton – in the same place that he came back."

No one disagreed. Harry sat back down next to Ginny and the others as Kinsgley said, "Very well. We'll do that tomorrow morning to get it out of the way. Any other business?"

No one said anything, so the meeting was adjourned. Harry glanced around as people started leaving, accepting people's thanks and shaking hands, hugging and waving at his friends as they hurried off to do separate things. He looked back at the Weasleys and Hermione, who were all sat together, watching him sadly. He hurried back over to them and sat down, looking at Mr and Mrs Weasley.

Mr Weasley cleared his throat, looking at his wife worriedly. "We've set the funeral for tomorrow." True to form, Molly Weasley burst out crying again, but this time she managed to stop the tears pretty quickly. Uncomfortable, Harry shifted in his seat.

"I'm so sorry about Fred," he said softly. "I wish there was something I could have-"

"Harry Potter," Mrs Weasley started, "Don't you dare start that! We all know you did everything you could have and you have saved the rest of our family from death enough times."

"There was nothing you could have done, Harry," Percy said softly, surprising everyone (including himself, it seemed). Despite being shocked that he'd spoken up, he carried on. "I was there, too. I know there was nothing anyone could have done."

Harry looked at the young man gravely, swallowing back his guilt in favour of looking at him properly. Percy Weasley looked a wreck; it was clear that he felt just as guilty as Harry did for not saving his brother.

"Thank you for coming back, Percy," Harry said, suddenly. "You made a difference, last night."

Everyone was quiet, looking down rather than meeting their hero's gaze, until he said. "So what's the plan, now?"

"You are going to the Hospital Wing," Ginny said quickly. "You're a mess, Harry, and I know you're in pain."

"Gin, it's not that bad," he said, trying to reason with her. "I'm sure I don't need to bother them-"

"Harry, how many times do we have to tell you that you aren't being a bother?" Mrs Weasley asked, exasperated. "If you are injured then you should go right away! What's wrong, dear?"

Harry simply shrugged. "It's nothing, really."

"Harry's got a great big burn mark across his chest," Hermione supplied.

"That's aside from the limp that we all noticed, mate," Ron added. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Look, the burn-"

"You've been burnt?" Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "Why on earth didn't you go straight to the Hospital Wing?"

"He col-"

"I needed sleep," he said, firmly, interrupting Ron's sentence (that was certain to end with 'collapsed' or something like that) with a glare. "The burn will heal on its own."

"Harry," Mr Weasley started, but Harry raised his hand and cut him off.

"Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley, thank you for your concern, but there is nothing a Healer can do for it. It's a curse wound," he explained, "From where I got hit with the killing curse."

There was a long minute of silence, in which Harry realised he hadn't managed to explain to anyone what happened in the forest, and grimaced, embarrassed.

Hermione, as usual, managed to put everyone's thoughts into words. "You got hit," she started slowly, "With the killing curse, again, and survived, _again_."

Harry shifted in his seat and hesitated. Then, sighing, he said, "I suppose you kind of want an explanation."

"Kind of? _Kind of_!" Hermione exploded, standing up. She leant across the table, wacked him over the head with a newspaper (where she got that, Harry didn't know) and shrieked, "_Kind of!_ Harry Potter! You can't just say that and-"

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, shielding his head with his arms. "Hermione, calm down!"

Livid, his best friend glared at him, before sitting down angrily and watching him some more. "Explain!"

Harry glanced around at the Great Hall, all of whom seemed to be watching them curiously. "Alright, but can we go somewhere else? And there are some other people who deserve and explanation, too – of everything we've done."

Mr Weasley smiled. "I'll go and find Kinsgley, perhaps, and he can tell us where we can go."

Harry nodded at him, gratefully, and then turned to the Weasley boys. "Look, I know George is upset, but-"

Charlie stood up. "I'll go and see if he'll come."

Harry nodded at him and looked over at Ginny, who said, "Shall I go and find Neville and Luna?"

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Gin." She smiled and disappeared over to where they had last seen the two.

"I'll get McGonagall," Bill said and stood, kissing Fleur on the cheek. Watching the two, Harry felt a twist in his stomach; they reminded him, suddenly, of Remus and Tonks. That made him think of Teddy…

He looked at those who were left, but mainly at Hermione. "I don't suppose you know how Andromeda and Teddy are?"

She looked down, sadly. "No one could reach them; they don't know yet. We were hoping, seeing as you've been to their house-"

"After I've explained, I'll go," he said, a wave of sadness crashing through him. Then he stood up, with Ron, Hermione, Mrs Weasley, Percy and Fleur joining him, and turned to see Mr Weasley, Bill, Kinsgley and McGonagall hurrying forwards to join them. Ginny, Neville and Luna reached them at the same time as Charlie and a dishevelled looked George entered the room. Harry looked at Kinsgley, who gestured to a door at the back of the hall.

"We can have privacy in there."

Harry nodded and said, "Lead the way."

Once inside the room, with the door closed behind them, everyone sat, then stared at Harry. Uncomfortable, Harry shifted. "Right, well, I suppose we should start with, well…"

Ron snorted at his best mate's obvious discomfort and Hermione playfully smacked him over the head. "Be quiet, Ronald."

Harry (and everyone else) chuckled, then said, "I suppose we should start with Dumbledore's death."

Everyone quieted automatically and Harry sat down, then started speaking. He explained about the horcruxes – which, by those who knew about them, was met with complete and utter horror – and about the diary – which caused Ginny to shake a little, knowing she had held a piece of Voldemort's soul in her hand – and ring. He then moved on to explain exactly how Dumbledore had died, and what they had been searching for that night, and the mission the three had taken up.

"So, that's where we were up to back in August," he explained, then glanced at Bill and Fleur. "After your wedding was attacked, we apparated away. Hermione took us to Tottenham Court Road, where we ran into a couple of Death Eaters."

"Wait," McGonagall interrupted. "You ran into some Death Eaters? Why were they there? Why were you there?"

Harry glanced at Hermione and said, "It was the first place Hermione thought of – you know, in the muggle world, safe. And we said Voldemort's name. It was the taboo, but we didn't know that then."

Hermione sighed. "We trashed a café in that fight. I do hope that poor muggle was alright."

Harry and Ron exchanged grins and then Harry began to explain the rest of their story. He explained Grimmauld Place and Kreacher and Mundungus' stories, the planning and the Ministry. When he explained that, Arthur looked shocked.

"So it was you, that day!" he exclaimed. "I wondered why Runcorn was being so… nice."

Harry chuckled and winced as pain shot through him. "Yeah," he muttered. "I didn't realise who he was when I took the potion."

Ginny was watching him anxiously, and looked like she was about to protest again, but he smiled and went on. "Of course, we now had the locket, but no means of destroying it." He explained the rest of their travels – glossing over Ron leaving – and finally managed to reach the night of the battle, after an action packed explanation of their break into Gringotts, and he stopped.

He glanced away from everyone, staring out of the window. Silence fell as everyone watched him, waiting breathlessly for his explanation.

"Aberforth showed us the way in," he explained. "And… Well, we reached the Room of Requirement. Luna took me to the Ravenclaw Common Room, where we met the Carrows for the first time – charming people. I knew what the diadem looked like, but not where it was – or even if he had used it. So I went to speak to the ghost of Ravenclaw tower.

"Helena Ravenclaw helped me. She told me what happened, and how Tom Riddle found it. Then I remembered; it was in the Room of Requirement all along – in the place where everyone hides things, and has done for generations. Then I went in search of Hermione and Ron – who were brilliant." He looked over at Ron, whose ears were red, and motioned for them to explain.

"It was all Ron's idea, and it was brilliant," Hermione explained. "We went down to the Chamber of Secrets to get basilisk fangs."

"Well, we still didn't have anything to destroy the cup with, did we?" Ron pointed out, still blushing at the admiration everyone was showing him. Harry watched his friend, happy that he was getting the attention for once. Ron glanced at his friend and said, "Go on, Harry."

Harry sighed and explained about getting the diadem, about saving Malfoy and Goyle, about Crabbe's death. Then, his explanation faltered and he looked away, knowing now he had reached the hardest part.

Fred's death. Snape's death… and the memories. Knowing what he was, who he was…

A small hand touched his arm and he looked down into Ginny's beautiful brown eyes. He clasped her hand in his own and began to speak in a low voice.

"We hurried away, going to find Voldemort, who would have Nagini with him. We didn't know where he was, but we were in a battle, fighting all sides of us… and then we found Fred and Percy, fighting some Death Eaters." He stopped again as George's head snapped around to stare at him. Meeting the twin's gaze, Harry carried on, his voice wavering and breaking. "Fred was laughing… Percy was joking as he hit Thicknesse with a spell… Then there was this massive explosion and Fred- Fred was dead."

Harry fell silent as the Weasleys began to cry. Mrs Weasley was wrapped in Mr Weasley's arms, who had tears streaking down his face; Bill was holding Fleur as the two cried; Hermione was holding Ron, who had buried his face in his hands; and Charlie and Percy were holding on to each other as two brothers. Harry placed his arm around Ginny gently, and pulled her closer as she cried silently, but he stared at George, who wasn't crying. He didn't look like he could cry; he didn't look like he could feel anything – well, not anything sad. Not grief, certainly.

Even from across the room, Harry could feel George's anger. The red-haired man stood up suddenly, breaking the shocked mourning that had filled the room. Everyone turned to stare at him, but he only had eyes for Harry.

"You could have saved him," he whispered, his voice cracked and broken from not speaking for so long. "You saved the others; you saved Ginny, and Dad, and Ron… Why didn't you save him? Was he not good enough for you to save?"

Harry felt each word as if it was a blow. His guilt rose up and wrapped around him, and he couldn't defend himself as George strode across the room and lifted him to his feet, holding him up by his collar.

"Why didn't you save him?" he yelled in Harry's face.

Around them, the room erupted, trying to drag George away, but Harry didn't move. He met George's eyes, felt his misery and loss, and whispered, "I would have if I could, George."

George stared at him for a moment, then dropped him. For a moment, everyone thought it would be okay – that was, of course, until George punched Harry across the jaw and he stumbled back, barely catching himself on the sofa to stop him from falling. Bill flung himself forwards at the same time as Charlie, and they caught their brother as he flung himself forwards to hit Harry again, but Harry yelled at them, "Let him go!"

"Are you mental?" Bill asked, staring at him incredulously.

"Do you want to get hit?" Charlie asked at the same time.

Harry just glared at them and said again, "Let him go." The brothers reluctantly stepped back and George lunged forwards, punching Harry across the jaw again. Harry stumbled back, but stepped forwards again, ignoring the blood than ran down his face and the ringing in his ears.

George raised his fist again but hesitated before he hit him. With a cracked voice, he asked, "Why aren't you fighting back?"

Harry shrugged, not really understanding himself. "I was taught never to hit a man while he was down," he offered, and then said, "And I think, to be honest, you kind of need to hit someone. I'd rather it was me than someone who took offence and hit you back."

George stared at him for a moment, the anger draining from his face, and then dropped his fist. "What… what am I doing?" he asked, disgust in his voice. "Fred wouldn't have wanted this."

Harry stepped forwards and caught the boy as he stumbled, holding up one of his surrogate brothers as mourning overwhelmed the twin. For the first time since he had seen his brother's body, George began to cry properly.

Harry helped him sit down, still holding the boy. The room seemed to decompress, and everyone sort of stepped back, uncomfortable but no longer ready for a fight.

George sobbed uncontrollably on Harry's shoulder. Harry held him, unsure of what to do other than be there for him, and sort of patted him on the shoulder. It took a few minutes, but George finally began to regain control of himself, and he sat up, looking around, a little embarrassed at his breakdown. He cleared his throat as he looked back at Harry.

"Sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean… I mean… I just…"

"Yeah," Harry muttered back. "I know, mate."

They let go of each other automatically, and George walked back across the room to his corner. The others looked at each other as Harry rubbed his jaw, looking in surprise at his hand when it came away covered in blood.

"Mrs Weasley," he asked, hesitantly, "I don't suppose you could help me with this?"

"Oh, of course," she exclaimed, and hurried to his side, raising her wand. She healed his face and hesitated, glancing between him and her bereaved son. "Thank you," she added in a whisper.

Then everyone sat down and Harry cleared his throat, ready to start his explanation again. "Well, then we went in search of Voldemort." He explained in a soft voice about the Shrieking Shack, and Snape's death. Swallowing, he explained about going up to Dumbledore's office and he explained the memories with a shaking voice.

"I knew what I had to do, then," he explained. "I knew I had to go down there and let him kill me, and not fight back. I was a horcrux. I had to die for us to win. So I put on my invisibility cloak and went down. I only stopped once – that was to speak to Neville. I told him to kill the snake, because I knew I wouldn't be there to do it."

Neville looked shocked, then said, "You trusted me with that?"

Harry smiled grimly. "Neville, you are stronger than you think. Of course I trusted you with that." Ginny looked at him strangely, but he smiled sadly at her and said, "I wanted to tell you, too. I wanted to stop when I saw you, but I knew if I did I wouldn't be able to keep going."

Then he sighed and looked down. So far, he had left out the mentions of the hallows, except for the elder wand, but now was the time to tell all. "You all know by now about the elder wand… but what do you know of the Deathly Hallows?"

Kinsgley and McGonagall obviously knew, but the others didn't, so in quick words Harry explained about the three. "The cloak was handed down, father to son, until it reached me. The wand, you all know, was Dumbledore's – until Malfoy disarmed him and I took it from him. The stone… The stone was set into the ring, the horcrux, until Dumbledore found it. He left it to me, in the snitch. He gave it to me so that I could use it to…" He stopped, struggling to find the words. "I brought them back, Sirius, Remus, Mum and Dad, but it wasn't like I was bringing them back; it was more like they were fetching me, so it was alright. They were there to help me. I wasn't pulling them away from their peace as much as they were coming to get me, to let me join them. It was the only way I could find the courage to do it."

He thought for a moment, then said, "We spoke for a little while and then we went to meet him. He was waiting for me in the clearing where the acromantula used to live." He shot a glance at Ron, who shuddered, and said, "Then he killed me."

Everyone reacted strangely to that sentence. Everyone asked questions at once, so much so that Harry couldn't understand a word they were saying, and had to shout over the top of them to make himself heard. "GUYS! Will you _listen_? Please?"

Chastised, everyone fell silent.

"I woke up in this strange place. It was beyond the veil, and I got to talk to Dumbledore. He explained stuff to me, a lot of stuff that wasn't necessarily about this, but the main point was this: I wasn't dead. Voldemort had ensured that, had tied me to a life while he lived – can anyone guess how?" At this, he looked at Hermione, who seemed lost. For once, it was his other best friend who had the answer.

"He took your blood," Ron supplied, staring at him strangely. "When he first came back. He used your blood… That's still gross."

Harry smiled and carried on. "Exactly. That meant I couldn't die while he lived, so when Voldemort had fired the curse at me, he had only succeeded in destroying the part of his soul, not mine. I was whole and able to return here. Which I did, of course, and then I had to pretend to be dead. Narcissa Malfoy was sent to check, but she lied to Voldemort, told him I was dead, because she wanted to find her son."

Sighing, he finished by saying, "Look, you know what happened next. Neville killed the snake – well done, mate; that was awesome – and then Voldemort pretty much killed himself by being an idiot."

Hermione laughed, breaking the tension in the room. "Harry, you killed him. You ended it. Not him."

Harry shrugged. "Either way, it's over. And that's our story."

Everyone seemed to relax and smile. "That's quite a story," Kingsley said quietly, but everyone turned to listen to their new minister. "You all managed to do something that fully grown and trained witches and wizards have never managed to do. All I can say, I suppose, is 'well done'."

Harry looked over at his best friends and laughed. The others watched him as he laughed, not quite certain why he was doing so, but then Hermione let out a bright giggle and joined him. Ron stared at his girlfriend and then snorted, seemed to choke for a minute, then let out a giant belly laugh. The people in the room stared at the trio, smiling at the three, and waited until they were done.

When Harry finally managed to take in a shaky breath and not laugh, he looked up at the others. Hermione and Ron's laughter died out quickly too, and they looked at each other sombrely.

"Are you three done?" McGonagall asked, but she wasn't as sharp as she usually was. Still, the three instantly nodded and Hermione said, "Yes, Professor."

"Sorry, Professor," the boys echoed. They studiously avoided looking at each other, biting their lips so as not to burst out laughing again.

"What on earth is so funny?" she demanded.

Harry smiled widely, and explained, "Well done… Well, it wasn't well done at all. We spent most of our time arguing, running away or getting captured or attacked. It was most certainly _not_ well done."

"Well, you survived eet," Fleur said softly. "We missed you when you left our 'ome, 'Arry. We feared you were…"

"We feared you were dead," Bill explained. He stared at his wife and sighed. "And I can honestly say I've never been happier to have my fears proved wrong."

Hermione smiled at the man and answered, "I think the same goes for us, too."

Everyone laughed and smiled – even George cracked a smile – and the tension left from the story was broken. Once again, the three saviours were just Harry, Hermione and Ron and everything was okay. For now.


	3. Chapter Three

**Okay, a slightly shorter chapter, but I've been busy and I felt you deserved an update.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, places or things in this. I don't really own much of the story line either, seeing as it's so ingrained with the end of DH. I suppose I own nothing, although it is my birthday next week, so I'd be grateful if I could have it.**

**Anyway, onto the chapter! Since I got such a positive response, I decided to carry on. Here you go.**

**Chapter Three**

"I don't care!" Ginny's red hair caught the light as she tossed it over her shoulder angrily. "You are injured, Harry James Potter! You can't just go gallivanting around-"

"Ginny," he said. She ignored him and carried on ranting, so he raised his voice. "GINNY! Please, hear me out!"

The girl fell silent, still glowering at him. The rest of the people who'd been watching them, some amused (Ron, for example) and some worried (Mrs Weasley, for example), also fell silent.

"I know that I'm injured," Harry said softly, trying to ignore the watchers that made him shift nervously. "But it's not that bad, not really and – AND," he continued over her protests. "And it's my duty as Teddy's godfather to take his parents home to him."

No one had anything to say to that. So Harry turned back to the two bodies that had been cleaned up so carefully, and had spells placed upon them to stop them from decomposing, and pointed his wand at them, levitating them up and moving to the floo with the two bodies in tow.

"I'll be back soon," he said with a small smile as he turned, seeing that Ginny was right behind him.

"I'm coming too," she said. "You aren't going anywhere alone for a very long time, Potter."

"That's fine by me, Weasley," he replied with a small smile. "I've been without you for long enough."

She smiled at him and stepped into the fireplace beside him, taking a hold of his hand. Together they tossed the floo powder into the fireplace and shouted, "The Tonks' House!"

They spun away, hoping that the bodies wouldn't be hurt, until they were spat out (rather gently, compared to the normal floo) into a house that Harry had only been to once before.

Andromeda stepped out of a door, her wand held in her hand as she aimed it between the two. She was holding Teddy and then dropped her wand.

Her eyes were focused on her daughter's face.

"Dora," she whispered, stepping forwards. "Dora?"

Harry stood, brushing the soot off of him, and levitated the two bodies forwards. "Mrs Tonks," he began, but Andromeda ignored him.

"I told her not to go," she whispered, walking forwards to stare down at her daughter's face. "I said, if you go you'll not come back. But she didn't listen to me."

"I'm sorry, Mrs Tonks," Harry whispered.

"H-how did they die?" she asked, her voice breaking as she took in Remus' body beside her daughter's.

"Together," Ginny replied softly, stepping forwards and clasping the elder woman's hand. "Protecting each other, as they would have wanted."

Andromeda started to sob. There was no ceremony about it, no slow onset of tears, only the choked sound of a sob escaping a woman who had lost far too much to go on. She pressed her free hand to her belly and let out a keening sound – the sound of a mother who'd lost her child. Tears dripped steadily down her face as she crumpled, falling into a seat.

Harry levitated the bodies down to rest on the floor – seeing as he didn't know where to put them – and lifted Teddy out of her arms, holding his sleeping godson close. Then he sat beside the mourning woman, Ginny on her other side, and stayed close as she cried.

It took nearly an hour to calm Andromeda down and help her into bed. Teddy woke up, and Harry found himself feeding the baby as he sat in front of the fire, waiting for Ginny to come out of the bedroom where she was helping Andromeda. She was better at the comfort thing than Harry.

Harry had just finished burping Teddy when the floo roared. He was on his feet in seconds, wand pointed at the pale, blonde woman who stepped out of the flames and shot him a haughty look.

"Put the wand away, Mr Potter," Narcissa Malfoy told him with a frown. "I'm here to look after my sister."

Harry frowned and said, "You disowned your sister years ago. Why are you here now?"

Narcissa sniffed. "My _family_ disowned her, not me. I'm here because her daughter is dead and she needs me. Is this my great-nephew?"

Harry shifted Teddy a little closer and stared at her wordlessly, not dropping his wand.

She sighed. "Mr Potter," she said quietly. "My sister needs me-"

"How do I know that you are who you appear to be and aren't here to kill her or Teddy?" he blurted out, frowning at her. "No offence, but you aren't acting like Narcissa Malfoy."

She smirked slightly. "I lied to the Dark Lord yesterday when I said you were dead because you told me that Draco was alive, in the castle."

Harry nodded and dropped his wand. "Thanks for that, by the way," he said a little sheepishly.

"Thank you for saving my son's life," she replied primly. "Now, may I see my sister?"

"This way," he said, gesturing to the room where Ginny was sitting with Andromeda and Narcissa swept passed him, into the room.

"Cissy!"

"Dromeda," Narcissa replied. "I'm so sorry." There was a strange note in the woman's voice that Harry realised was withheld tears. He watched as the two women embraced tightly, and Andromeda sobbed on her younger sister's shoulder.

That was the first time Harry realised that Narcissa Malfoy was a sister as well as just a haughty pureblood.

Narcissa sat beside her sister and the two whispered as Ginny went to Harry's side and took his hand, starting to tug him away. Harry was reluctant to leave without checking whether Andromeda was okay, so he hesitated.

"Andromeda?" he said quietly.

The two sisters looked up, still leaning against each other. Andromeda managed a small smile for him. "It's okay, Harry," she said quietly. "You two go on now. Cissy's here to look after me. Thank you for bringing them home."

"Do you want me to take Teddy?" he asked, glancing at his godson. "If he's too much for you-"

"We'll be all right," Andromeda replied. "Would you put him down before you leave? I don't mean to throw you out-"

"It's fine," he interrupted. "I understand. The – the funerals…"

"We'll sort everything out," Narcissa cut in, stroking her sister's hair gently. "And I'll owl you the details."

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry, Andromeda."

"Thank you, Harry," she replied, and Harry let Ginny tug him away. They put Teddy in his crib together and Ginny turned to the floo.

Harry hesitated, then kissed his godson goodbye. "I'll be back soon, Teddy," he whispered to the infant. "I'll be here to look after you."

Then he stood and went to Ginny's side, taking her hand and allowing her to floo the two of them away.

They arrived at the Great Hall and Harry staggered out, collapsing onto a bench and placing his head in his hands. Pain throbbed through his chest, but it was less the burn and more the pain of loss that grieved him. Remus and Tonks… How could they be gone? Poor Teddy.

Maybe it was the similarities of Teddy's life and his own that broke Harry's heart so keenly. But no, he decided. Teddy's life would be nothing like his had been. Teddy would never know hatred and fear if Harry could do anything about it, and he would be brought up surrounded by love. Harry would ensure that Remus' son never knew the hatred and distrust that his father had suffered, and that he never knew the pain of having his relatives hate him like Harry had.

Harry would be the best godfather ever.

"Come on, Harry." Ginny's arm was around him, helping him stand. "Let's get you sorted out."

He didn't complain as Ginny led him away from the Great Hall, up to the Hospital Wing. He didn't complain as he was placed on a bed and Madam Pomfrey was called over.

He didn't complain through the examination, or through the healing, but he did when Madam Pomfrey insisted that he stay the night.

"I can't," he protested. "I have to help!"

"You can't help if you can't stand, Mr Potter," she replied sternly. "You'll stay."

"But – I need to be with my family," he blurted, then hesitated as he realised what he said. There was a shocked intake of breath from beside him and he looked tentatively up at Ginny, who seemed to be lost for words. For a moment he thought she was angry, but then she threw her arms around him and kissed him passionately.

It wasn't like the kiss the last summer, on his birthday, but it too was a kiss like never before. It was grief and loss and fear, mixed in with longing and love and happiness, an overwhelming happiness that brought tears to his eyes. The kiss was passion made real and it left Harry gasping for breath when Ginny pulled back.

"Harry," she whispered, placing a hand on his face. She met his eyes for a moment, conveying all the love she didn't need to say, before turning to the waiting medi-witch and saying, "Can't we take him home to rest? I'll make sure he does, Madam Pomfrey."

It took a little more convincing and then a long time listening to instructions, but Madam Pomfrey finally agreed to let Ginny take Harry back to the Burrow, where he was to eat and rest.

They stopped before the floo and Harry said, "I'm sorry-"

Ginny snorted and elbowed him. "Don't be a prat," she told him. "You've nothing to be sorry for. You _are_ our family, Harry. You have been since you first stepped foot in the Burrow. I'm glad you're finally realising it."

Harry smiled sheepishly and they stepped into the flames, spinning away to their home.

The moment he stepped out of the flames he was engulfed by Mrs Weasley's arms. She was sobbing again, but Harry simply hugged her back and waited for her to stop.

"Oh, Harry dear," she sniffled. "It's so good to see you – come on now, let's sit you down – have you eaten yet? I've almost finished dinner-"

"Mum," Ginny interrupted as she tugged Harry out of her mother's embrace. "Harry's under strict instructions to eat and then rest all night – from Madam Pomfrey."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Mrs Weasley guided him into a chair and said, "Honestly, I suppose you two have been gallivanting around again-"

"No, Mum," Ginny said, looking bored. "I've been taking perfect care of him."

"She really has, Mrs Weasley," Harry added, taking Ginny's hand and shooting her a smile that showed everyone in the room exactly how much he adored the girl in front of him. "She's amazing."

"Yeah, she is," Ron agreed as he sat down opposite Harry. Now that Harry was no longer being hovered over by Mrs Weasley, he could see that the kitchen was fit to bursting with the inhabitants of the burrow. Mr Weasley sat in his usual chair, with George beside him. The two looked like they were having an intense conversation. Percy, Hermione and Fleur were standing, chopping things or stirring things at Mrs Weasley's command, while Charlie was sitting beside Ron, shooting covert looks at George.

"And you'd better be very serious about this relationship, Harry," Ron continued. "Or else you're going to have the entire Weasley clan on you. Don't hurt her-"

"I won't." Harry's voice was quiet but sincere. He knew Ron was only being the brother her should be, so told himself not to get worked up. He only just managed, though. "The same goes for you with Hermione. I don't care that you're my best friend – if you hurt her, I'll hurt you."

"I wouldn't," Ron said, and the two eyed each other for a minute before cracking smiles and clasping hands across the table, shaking once. And like that, the serious moment was over and they were just Ron and Harry again.

Moments later, Mrs Weasley placed a piled-up plate in front of Harry and ordered him to, "Eat up!"

Dinner was quiet, but the air was not as grief-filled as Harry had been expecting. There were small smiles, brief touches – every movement, every expression, every word was there to reassure the family that each of them were there, that they were not leaving, that although they were not whole, the family would be no more broken than it had been already. There were no tears, not even from Mrs Weasley, and George managed a small smile for Harry.

The moment his plate was cleared, Mrs Weasley ordered him up to bed, guiding him up to Ron's room and telling him to take the bed, that he was injured so Ron wouldn't mind sleeping on the camp bed –

"No, Mrs Weasley, I couldn't," Harry replied with a smile. "Ron's slept on a camp be enough this year without me putting him out again-"

"Don't be silly dear, it's no trouble; Ron doesn't mind," she replied, but Harry insisted.

"I've slept on worse than the camp bed," he told her sternly. "I'll be fine. Thank you for putting me up at all."

"You're family, Harry," Mr Weasley butted in from the door. "We'd have you no place else."

Harry smiled at him and kissed Ginny lightly before grabbing his pyjamas and changing. He crawled into the bed and relaxed, letting out the breath he'd been holding.

That day had been harder than he'd imagined it could have been. He'd seen Andromeda's heart break when she'd caught sight of her dead daughter's body. He'd held Teddy close to him, but he'd known that Teddy would never again be held by his father or mother. He'd watched the inhabitants of Hogwarts learn to deal with their grief and had learnt more of the dead. He felt a little broken inside.

But to help with it all, Ginny had been there. Ron and Hermione had been there. Everyone had welcomed him and thanked him and he was fine, really. Everything would be fine. It might take a few more days, he supposed, but eventually everything would be back in place, even if some bits were missing.

Closing his eyes, it didn't take long for him to drift into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: Hello, lovely people! Another day, another chapter. I'm not planning for this to be a large fic, all things considered, but I have a fair few chapters left in me. I really hope you enjoy this, but also please review if you have any idea where this should go or any ideas of how to improve – I always want to improve. Thanks for reading.**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**Chapter Four**

It was dark. Red eyes peered at him from across the Great Hall. There was no sun – Harry knew that there would never be sun again – and what little light there was came from Voldemort himself. He illuminated the room and Harry could see the bodies of his friends lying across the floor, strewn there.

"_You deserted them…_" Voldemort's voice was high and cold and came crooning out of the air around Harry as the world twisted. He could see each and every one of his friends' dead bodies in front of his eyes. Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley. Fred and George, together. "_If you hadn't have left, they would have lived…"_

Remus. Tonks. Kingsley. Luna. Neville.

"_If you had just given yourself up, none of them would be dead…"_

Dean. Seamus. Lavender. Hermione. Ron.

"No! No!" Harry was yelling and struggling but nothing could stop the bodies.

"_Your fault, Harry Potter. Your fault, you coward…"_

Ginny.

"NO! GINNY!" Harry sat bolt upright in bed, his heart pounding and his shout still echoing in the air around him.

"Harry!" Ron was in front of him, gripping his arms. When Harry blinked and focused on his face, Ron let out a sigh of relief and let him go. "You all right, mate?"

"Yeah," Harry grunted, glancing past him to the door. The Weasleys stood by the door, watching him with worry on their faces, and Harry blushed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't apologise dear," Mrs Weasley said quickly. "You can't help your dreams, after all-"

Ginny stepped past her mother and slipped into the room, sitting beside him with worried eyes. She stroked his hair back and watched him for a second as he drank her living face in. Her brown eyes – her beautiful brown eyes – sparkled with worry and love for him. She was beautiful and alive.

"What did you dream?" she whispered. Behind her, Harry could hear Mr Weasley ushering everyone out to give them some privacy, and saw Ron step into Hermione's embrace before walking away. He barely took any notice.

"It doesn't matter-"

"It matters so me," she replied, so Harry told her, his voice breaking as he described his friends' images that were so deeply inscribed into his brain. "I – I-"

"Oh, Harry," Ginny whispered, wrapping her arms around him. "It's okay, Harry," she added, kissing him lightly. "I'm here. I'm fine. You saved us." She kept this mantra up, whispering the same words over and over as Harry's heart slowed and his breathing evened out.

When he was calm again, he held her close and simply breathed in the scent of her hair, being comforted by the familiar, citrusy scent.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Don't thank me," she replied, and kissed him softly. "I'm always here, Harry. I love you and I'm not leaving you. We're safe, okay? Voldemort's gone and we're safe." When Harry didn't speak, Ginny stood up and took his hand, walking out of Ron's room and down the stairs to the kitchen, where she set about making hot chocolate. Harry sat and watched her, thinking of just how beautiful and incredible she was. Ginny had had Voldemort in her head, too, and she was still so whole and perfect. Why wasn't he?

"Did you – Did you-" Harry hesitated, choking on the words that he wanted to speak.

"Just say it, Harry," Ginny said, walking over and prodding him in the side. She placed the drinks on the table next to them and sat down. "Whatever it is just spit it out." She picked up her drink and took a small sip, licking the drop of chocolate off of her lip.

Harry swallowed and did as she ordered. "After the – the Chamber of Secrets," he started slowly. "Did you have – have nightmares?"

Ginny was silent for a long moment. Then she stirred and rested her head against his shoulder, replacing the drink on the table, taking his hand gently in his and tracing patterns in the skin. "Yes," she finally admitted. "For a long time I dreamt that you didn't bother coming, or that you died from the Basilisk, or died fighting Riddle. I used to wake screaming every night, but no one ever knew. I got Bill to place a charm on my room that stopped eavesdroppers – _Muffliato,_ you know – and so no one ever heard me scream. I didn't want to be weak.

"But then," she continued, "Then I realised that it wasn't weak to have nightmares about it. It was a nightmare itself, so it was only right that I dreamt about it afterwards. It was terrifying. And when I started to accept my nightmares – embrace them, I suppose – they went away. I suppose it was me coming to terms with what had happened."

She hesitated and the two fell silent for a long minute, waiting for something – Harry wasn't certain what.

Finally, Ginny spoke again. "I still have them, sometimes, but my nightmares changed a long time ago." She looked up at him and smiled. "They turned into losing you, rather than something bad happening to me."

Harry smiled back and kissed her softly. She tasted just a little of chocolate and spices and the flavour was so warming and completely _Ginny _that he felt a little better, just from the kiss.

"That's sweet," he told her softly and picked up the hot chocolate. He took a sip and breathed a deep sigh at the chocolate and spices that Ginny had flavoured it with. "That's amazing," he told her as he registered the flavour properly.

"It's my own special recipe," she told him with a small smile. "I used to make it whenever my family needed comfort. I figured it would be just right for tonight."

"Thanks," he said, and this time his voice was a lot more relaxed. He felt warm all over from the drink and he felt the weight that settled on his chest lift a little as Ginny shifted beside him and curled up, drinking her drink.

"I love you," he whispered softly. "I really, really love you, Ginny."

"I love you too, Harry," she said back, as if he should have known that already and he was being silly by saying it. He smiled at the pragmatic girl beside him.

"I thought of you," he told her. "When he killed me. I thought of you, and of how it was to kiss you. It gave me the strength I needed to face it without fighting back."

Ginny stared at him and then smiled slowly. It was a brilliant smile that transformed her face into something bright and beautiful and Harry felt something stir in his chest. It ached how much he loved her. She reached up and kissed him, and the ache went away. Ginny loved him back. He would be with her.

When he pulled away, Harry returned to drinking his hot chocolate. The couple drank on in silence, watching the dark night ease back a little as the light of pre-dawn appeared on the horizon to the east. Ginny tossed back the dregs of her drink and stood, taking their cups and washing them up before cleaning them away.

"Come on," she said with a small smile as she took his hand. "Come on, Harry," she repeated as he hesitated. "Let's sleep." So Harry let her lead him back up the stairs and they curled up in Ginny's room, with Harry on the floor by her bed and her in the bed. Their hands remained clasped even in sleep.

Harry woke up the next morning and blinked, trying to work out where he was. Then he realised that he was still on the floor of Ginny's room and scrambled to his feet, worried what Mr and Mrs Weasley – and Ginny's brothers – would think if they caught them.

"Harry, calm down." Ginny's voice was sleepy as it floated out of her blankets. "It'll be fine."

"I'm going to go and get dressed," he told her quickly, then dropped a kiss on her forehead (the only part of her face that was outside of her duvet). "I'll see you down at breakfast."

"Mm," she agreed and yawned widely. Harry smiled at his sleepy girlfriend and crept out of her room, hurrying up the stairs to Ron's room.

He opened the door and walked in to find Ron and Hermione lying curled up in Ron's bed. He rolled his eyes as Hermione jolted out of sleep, sitting bolt upright, and Ron snored in response.

"Morning," he said cheerfully to Hermione's blushing face. "Sleep well?"

"Oh – Harry. I – well…"

"This is a first," he said with a teasing smile. "Hermione Granger at a loss for words?"

"Oh, stop teasing me, Harry!" she said and smiled at him. "I'd better get back down to Ginny's room, I suppose-"

"Don't let Mrs Weasley catch you," he warned as she kissed Ron's cheek and hurried to the door. "She doesn't need to know that we switched rooms."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and said, "I'm not stupid."

"I know," he said quietly as she slipped out of the room. "You're brilliant." She didn't – couldn't have – heard him, but he felt better for saying it. Then he turned and grabbed his clothes and changed quickly, before going down to the bathroom to clean up.

Harry walked into the kitchen and smiled at Mrs Weasley as she called to him, "Morning!"

"Good morning, Mrs Weasley," he replied. "Can I help with breakfast?"

Mrs Weasley smiled tearfully at him. "Oh, Harry. Of course you can. Are you feeling better?"

"Much," he told her fervently as he stepped over to her side to stir the porridge. "You have an amazing daughter, Mrs Weasley," he added more softly. "Ginny is just – I have no words. She's…"

"She's rather brilliant, isn't she?" Mr Weasley agreed as he walked into the kitchen, kissing Mrs Weasley on the cheek. "Just like her mother."

"And her father!"

Harry smiled, an unfamiliar twinge in his chest. Would his parents have been like this if they had lived? Would they have laughed and joked, teased and flirted, over breakfast? Would they have been proud of him?

Harry sighed and returned his thoughts to the cooking food. There was no point in him wondering what might have been. It would never happen. He just needed to move forwards.

"Are you okay?" Ginny's soft voice was a balm to his rough nerves and he smiled over his shoulder at her, trying to show is love and gratitude to her in the one look. She looked especially lovely that morning, although far more sombre than normal, dressed in a black dress. The whole family wore black today, including Harry and Hermione; it was Fred's funeral.

"I'm fine, love," he said quickly, before raising his wand and ordering the porridge to serve itself. Then he turned and kissed her quickly. "Are you?"

"I'm surviving," she replied and her smile faded quickly. Harry got the feeling that all of the smiles would fade quickly today, if there were any at all. "How's your chest?"

"Just fine, thank you very much," he replied smartly. She smirked at his tone and sat down to eat. Harry slid in beside her and squeezed her hand, before digging in.

Breakfast was quiet and the walk to the cemetery was even quieter. The Weasleys' faces were sombre and Mrs Weasley was already crying, before they even reached the assembly of chairs that the Weasley children had set up the day before, when Harry and Ginny were at Andromeda's. There were people already milling about, dressed in black, and a podium was set up in front of a coffin, which was made out of dogwood, the same wood that his wand had come from.

Mr and Mrs Weasley walked forwards and the guests turned to greet them. Harry stayed by Ginny's side, silently supporting her as people approached her and she greeted them, thanking them for their condolences. Most of the people were unknown to Harry, but they stared at him, which was uncomfortable, but not surprising.

Luna and Neville approached them and Ginny embraced her friends tightly. She wasn't crying – by this time, she was the only member of her immediate family who wasn't – but she looked close to tears. Harry wrapped his arm around her after she released the two others.

"We're very sorry for your loss," Neville told her solemnly. "Gran wanted to come but the healers said she had to stay." Neville's gran had been injured in the final battle but was now on the mend. "She sends her condolences."

"Thanks, Neville," Ginny said with a brave attempt at a smile. "That means a lot."

"I liked Fred," Luna said quite seriously. "He was always very interested in magical creatures, and talked to me quite often. He was a very funny man. I suppose George is missing him rather a lot, isn't he?"

"Well, uh, yeah, he is," Harry said, when Ginny didn't reply. He tightened his arm around her and she leant against him, struggling for control for a minute. "But he'll be all right. Come on," he said quickly, changing the subject. "We'd better sit down."

Harry led the way for them to sit down and he took his seat beside Ginny, who sat in the front row, beside Ron and Hermione. Ron didn't look up from where he sat, slouched over, his face in his hands, but Hermione did. She offered them a watery smile and a brief squeeze of Ginny's hands, but no words passed between them. None needed to; everyone knew that no comfort could come from words. Fred was dead and nothing could change that.

Harry sat with his hand in Ginny's and he was suddenly reminded vividly of Dumbledore's funeral. So much had changed since then, even if the scene was familiar. He no longer looked on to an impossible challenge. He no longer had to leave all those he loved behind. There was no more uncertainty or fear. Now there was simply grief, and loss, and the pain of having to rebuild their world, but at least there was no more uncertainty of whether they would win or lose. They had won.

But they had lost, too.

"If I could have your attention, please," a voice said. It was the same wizard from both Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding, and again his words were not very personal at all. Were they anything to do with the bright wizard that they had known and loved? Did 'fun-loving' and 'mischievous-spirit' sum up Fred Weasley?

Then the wizard fell silent and Harry gasped in shock – along with the rest of the Weasley family – as George took to the podium and turned to the assembled wizards and witches. The bereaved twin looked pale and gaunt, with huge, purple circles under his eyes, but he looked sort of peaceful as he stared out.

"My brother," he started with no other introduction, "Would have hated this." More gasps. "Don't get me wrong, it's lovely and meaningful, but Fred hated sad stuff. He said to me once, 'if I die before you, George, it's your duty to ensure that everyone at my funeral wears orange'. Well, I failed him there, but at least I can tell you what Fred was really like.

"Fred loved to annoy people. He loved to make people laugh. He loved to cause havoc and he thrived on mayhem. He was a mischief-maker until the end, and he loved every minute of it. I honestly don't think I can remember a single thing that we did that Fred would have regretted – even dying. Because," he said, meeting his parents' eyes with a small smile, "Fred would have wanted it to be him to die. He was like that – you all know it – he would have wanted everyone else to live. He would have wanted things to be the way they were."

George hesitated, and turned slowly to look at his brother's coffin. Then he turned back to the assembled masses and said, "When Fred and I were kids, we had a dream. We dreamt that we would grow up and own a joke shop, where everyone could come and find something to make them laugh. Well, we managed that, I think. We dreamt that it would drive Mum bonkers – which we could have managed without the shop, I reckon-" There was a brief laugh and everyone seemed to be shocked that they had dared.

Recognising this, George said, "Fred would like for us to laugh today. It's what he spent his life doing – laughing, and making people laugh. It's what he – what he-" George choked up, tears streaming down his face and no one moved for a long minute.

Then Charlie stood up and moved to his brother's side, placing an arm around his shoulders. He spoke calmly, even with tears still wet on his face. "Fred had a passion for life that matched no one else's. He loved life so much, but I reckon he would have wanted it to be this way – he would have wanted to live a happy, short life, rather than a long, miserable one."

George chuckled, and wiped his eyes. "With that in mind," he croaked, "I'd advise you to stand up."

He pointed his wand straight up and shot a strange spell into the sky. Nothing happened for a moment, before –

_BOOM_!

The sky seemed to explode. Colours flashed across it, bringing loud, crashing booms as well. The fireworks danced across the sky, bright even though the sky was lit already, and shapes formed. Dragons roared and breathed fire, thestrals and hippogriffs flew around in circles, centaurs cantered across the sky, letting loose a thousand flaming arrows that shot towards the crowd of people below and merpeople swam, screeching and splashing sparkling blue water down onto the masses. Golden flames erupted and a giant, laughing hyena burst out from behind it, running forwards as it opened its jaws.

_CRASH_!

The fireworks faded into nothing as the hyena exploded into giant, sparkling letters – _WWW_.

Fred Weasley's funeral was certainly a memorable one, all things considered.


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: This is going to be the last chapter. I might put up an epilogue, if people want that. That means that I'll actually need reviews saying yes if you do want it, otherwise I'll leave it. Thank you for reading.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Although, it is my birthday on Thursday… Please?**

**Chapter Five**

By the time Ginny's birthday rolled around, the wizarding world was a very different place. There had been a massive effort from the entire country as volunteers from all over the place swarmed into Hogwarts, the Ministry, Diagon Alley and St Mungo's to rebuild. It had now been three months since Voldemort's defeat and the world was unrecognisable.

Hogwarts had been rebuilt and reopened, and was now thriving under McGonagall's firm hand. Ginny had returned and had sat her exams and finished the year before coming home for the summer, which had been difficult for Harry, but they had managed. Some professors had been injured during the battle, but the staff had been filled temporarily with volunteers and had now found some permanent staff. Neville had been offered a job as apprentice to Professor Sprout, who had been injured and was getting old anyway, and he was only too happy to fill the spot. He had been asked to re-do his seventh year while being her apprentice, seeing as he'd missed quite a bit of it and the Carrows' teaching was terrible anyway, but after that he'd be Professor Longbottom. Alongside him, Hermione had agreed to return for her seventh year in September, although Ron and Harry had decided not to.

Ron would join his brother, George, in the running of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He still wanted to be an auror sometime later in life, but right now he needed to help his family rebuild their lives and, as he'd put it, he'd had 'quite enough of chasing dark wizards for now, thank you very much'.

Harry would be working in a very different environment. Kingsley was now permanent Minister for Magic and had overseen the rebuilding of the Ministry – starting with demolishing that horrible fountain – with surprising grace. He was good with people and the volunteers had flocked in, helping to rebuild and to oversee the offices while they found permanent employees to fill the vacant positions. Harry was one of these.

The offer had come two days after Fred's funeral, when Harry had been assisting with the clean-up of Diagon Alley – he'd been helping Ollivander re-open his shop – and Kingsley himself had approached him.

The doorbell had chimed and Ollivander had looked up, smiling brightly. "Good morning, Minister."

"Good morning, Garrick," Kingsley had replied, his deep voice seeming cheerful (which was becoming a common occurrence when people spoke now-a-days). "May I borrow Harry for a moment?"

"Of course," Ollivander had replied. "Thank you for your help, Mr Potter."

Harry had straightened up and smiled at Kingsley, before replying, "I'll be back in a moment, Mr Ollivander."

"No hurry, my dear boy," he'd said, before disappearing into the back room.

Harry had followed Kingsley outside, walking down the street by the Minister's side and watching the renovation with relaxed eyes. Kingsley had been silent for a minute, before saying, "Well, Harry, you did it."

"Mm," Harry agreed, staring across the alley with happiness filling him. "We did."

Kingsley chuckled and said, "And now, we must think to the future." When Harry only looked at him, feeling nervous, Kingsley went on slowly, "I don't doubt that you'll want one day to marry Miss Weasley."

Harry chuckled in return. "Maybe… Not yet, though. Not till she's out of Hogwarts and is ready. We both need to get used to living together, first."

Kingsley smiled and said, "Well, when you do I want an invitation." Harry had laughed and nodded, and Kingsley went on. "Harry… I am under the impression that you want to be an auror."

Harry stared at him and said that yes, yes he did want to be an auror. "But I don't want to work for someone who's corrupt," he added quickly.

"And I don't want corrupt people in the ministry," Kingsley replied. "May I be brutally honest, Harry?" Without waiting for an answer, he added, "We need you. I need you. I need people I can trust around me, in the Ministry, and people look up to you. They're also afraid of you. I know," he added, when Harry protested. "I know you don't want them to be, but they are. And that means they'll do what you say and will respect you. And so, I want you in the Ministry. If you still want to be an Auror, we'll put you in the training program as soon as you're ready and willing. If you don't want that any more – and no one would blame you – I can put you in any department you want. I'd like you in my department if you don't want to be an Auror."

Harry hesitated, his heart leaping a bit in his chest. He'd always – well, since fourth year – wanted this. He wanted to fight dark wizards and witches and, even though he'd finished Voldemort, he still knew that there were Death Eaters out there. But still he hesitated.

"Would I have to start straight away?" he asked, frowning.

"Merlin, no," Kingsley said, and laughed a little. "I expect you want a rest after the last year. Anyway, the training program doesn't start until September, so you'd have all summer."

"Then I'd love to," Harry said, making the decision that moment. "McGonagall will be upset. She wanted me to go back to Hogwarts."

"I expect that you'd rather move on from that," Kingsley said shrewdly. "It wouldn't be right without Dumbledore, would it?"

"No," Harry agreed softly, surprised that Kingsley understood so easily. "Thank you, Kingsley – I mean, Minister."

"Just Kingsley," the Minister had replied, and the two parted ways.

So Harry was to start the training in September.

Diagon Alley re-started business very quickly. Ollivander's shop was back to normal very quickly. Florean Fortescue's Ice cream parlour was re-opened by his son. WWW was opened by George and Ron and business was booming, even though no new products were launched for quite a long time – George seemed to have lost his inventing mojo without his twin.

St Mungo's was run almost entirely by volunteers, after so many of the healers had been killed or tortured for healing the enemies of the Death Eaters. Mrs Weasley worked there for the whole summer, along with Fleur and Charlie (who'd been taught to heal by necessity – he did work with dragons, after all). Soon enough, though, new healers flooded in and the hospital began to work properly.

And so Ginny's birthday rolled around. The school year was over, the regime of terror was done, and everyone was relaxed, if not cheerful. So many deaths had devastated the country, but there was still the feel of celebration in the air.

Harry was up first on Ginny's birthday. He then set about making a very special birthday breakfast of all of his girlfriend's favourites (pancakes with golden syrup and butter with coffee) while the Weasleys steadily dripped in. It was Ginny's seventeenth, after all, and a very special day. Mrs Weasley hugged him and thanked him profusely for making breakfast, whereas Ron simply snorted and said, "Whipped," under his breath.

Harry elbowed his friend and replied, "Carry these to the table." He laughed softly when Ron immediately did as he was told, but he stopped laughing as Ginny stepped down the stairs and smiled at him.

"Morning," she said quietly, looking straight at him.

Everyone jumped – not having noticed her appearance – and greeted her with a giant cheer of, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Harry smiled at her.

"Harry made breakfast," she said softly, surveying the table with raised eyebrows.

"How did you know?" Ron asked, looking up. "It might have been anyone-"

"Because, idiot," Ginny said, throwing herself into a seat, "Only Harry remembers my favourite foods and only Harry would provide coffee for this lot." She shot him an amused look and said, "You just wait. There will be hell in about two minutes when the caffeine hits their systems."

Harry rolled his eyes, amused, but then Ron looked at him and gave him a bright grin, and Harry realised that Ginny may be telling the truth.

"Uh oh," he muttered and Ginny took his hand, leaning over to kiss him.

"It was a nice idea," she said softly, as the table exploded. Three fireworks went off (thanks to George); Charlie let loose a dozen model dragons; Ron hexed Percy's ears to turn green and Percy turned Ron's nose into a pig's nose.

Ginny laughed and leant against Harry, who chuckled and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of spices and vanilla that had become home for him.

A half-hour later, after Mrs Weasley had literally hosed down her caffeinated sons, Ginny sat down to open her presents. Mr and Mrs Weasley gave her a delicate gold watch, even though it was only traditional for a wizard to get one.

Mr Weasley had smiled at his daughter's confused expression and explained, "Sometimes, Gin, I think you're a better son than any of this lot. Besides, I've always known that you wanted one."

Ginny has grinned and hugged them both, thanking them profusely. She then opened a box of perfume from Ron and Hermione (they were giving presents together now, apparently), a box of WWW products from George (which she was quick to hide from her mother, with a wink for Harry), a set of NEWT books from Percy, a box of chocolates (with firewhiskey in, though that too she hid from Mrs Weasley) from Charlie and a broomstick service kit from Bill and Fleur.

She also received a book from Luna (on unusual – or non-existent – creatures) and a beautiful plant from Neville.

Then eyes turned to Harry, who shifted uncomfortably and smiled.

"Don't tell me you forgot," Ginny said with an amused smile.

"No…" Harry hesitated, then glanced at the others. They looked on curiously. "All right then," he muttered, and then added, "It's outside. Come on."

He stood up and led the way, turning to the side and reappearing with a long, thin package.

Ginny gasped as she stared at it. Harry passed it to her wordlessly and said, "Don't get mad at me about the money."

Ginny ripped it open and stared down wordlessly at the broomstick. She ran her hands down it lightly, looking like a supplicant worshipping a god, and mouthed the word edged in the end. "Firebolt."

"Shit, Harry!" Ron swore, and earned a reprimand from his mother that broke the tension.

"Do you – do you like it?" he asked, running a hand through his hair that, though he didn't know, was exactly how his father often reacted in situations such as that when he was a boy.

Ginny looked up at him and gaped, staring at him. "How – I – Of course I do!" she said. "How could I not? Oh, Harry…"

He grinned and she threw her arms around him, kissing him soundly. Her brothers all cleared their throats loudly and they broke apart, grinning widely.

"I love you," he told her softly. She smiled at him.

"I love you too."

That evening, after a busy day, Harry took Ginny's hand and they walked away from the house, down to the village. They were quiet on the way, a sort of poignant sorrow hanging in the air between them. They'd agreed days before that they were going to visit Fred's grave.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Gin?" Harry asked, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. She looked pale, but resolute, and he knew the answer before she spoke.

"Yes," she answered. "I need to – I need to speak to him, even if he's not here."

Harry hesitated. "You know, someone once said to me something. He said 'the ones that love us never really leave us. You can always find them, in here." He gestured to his chest and Ginny watched him with sad eyes.

"Sirius said that, didn't he?" she asked quietly. Harry nodded and she wound her arm around his waist. "He'd be so proud of you, Harry."

"Just like Fred would be of you," he said and nudged her with his hip. "I wish I could speak with him one last time."

"Me too," she whispered, and Harry pulled her close.

They reached the cemetery in silence. It was a short walk to find the grave, walking through row after row of silent headstones in the fading light of the summer evening, and the pair instinctively drew closer together.

They reached the headstone and stopped. It read:

_Fred Weasley_

_April 1__st__, 1978 – May 2__nd__, 1998_

_Prankster, twin and freedom fighter._

'_The good ones are taken first so they can prepare the way for the rest of us.'_

Harry bowed his head as Ginny knelt, her hand reaching out to touch her brother's grave.

"Hi, Fred," she whispered. Tears dripped steadily down her face and Harry was shocked to see them; Ginny, to his knowledge, hadn't cried over her brother's death yet. He'd never seen her cry, actually.

"It's Ginny, if you were wondering," she carried on as Harry watched. "Harry's here, too. It's my birthday, you see, and we thought we'd better come and say hello."

"Hey, Fred," Harry whispered, and knelt by Ginny's side.

Ginny sniffed and took his hand. "It's been three months – more than – since you died, Freddy. You wouldn't recognise the world now – actually, you would. It's like it was before, before all of this, only better. Pureblood activists have been completely destroyed and there's such a strong pro-unity feeling… you'd have loved it now, Fred.

"It's not just that, though," she said, carrying on. "You'd have finally seen Hermione and Ron together. You always said it was going to happen, didn't you Freddy? And you were right. You always said I'd be with Harry, too," she added, looking up at him. "And looks like you were right there too." She broke down into sobs and Harry pulled her to his chest, wrapping her tightly in a warm embrace that offered the strength and sense of wholeness that Ginny needed in that moment.

"I want to say thanks, Fred," Harry said softly, still holding Ginny close. "Thank you for fighting. Thank you for supporting us. And thanks for encouraging Ginny to become the person she really was destined to be. I can't tell you how grateful I am to have this wonderful woman around." He looked down at her and she smiled gratefully back.

"I suppose I've said what I came to say," she said softly. "I'll be back soon, Fred."

"Bye, Fred."

They stood up and made their way away from the grave, when Harry stopped and looked at her. He took a deep breath and said, "Ginny… there's another part to your present, if you want it."

"Oh?" she asked, looking up at him archly. "What's that, then?"

"I know it's really soon, and we've only just got back together," he said in a rush, "But I love you. And we'll be separated in September, not able to see each other till Christmas. So I want you to have something that will make you remember that I'm always yours. I always have been, even when I left you behind."

He swallowed and took a box out of his pocket, showing it to Ginny who gasped.

"It's not what you think," he said quickly. "Unless you want it to be. Well, I mean – I suppose it sort of is."

"Harry James Potter," she said slowly, "Are you asking me to marry you?"

Harry swallowed again and ran his hand through his hair. "Maybe?" he asked, his voice coming out a little high pitched.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he tried for a smile. "Okay. Yes. Well. I'm more asking you to become engaged to me. If that's okay."

The eyebrow inched higher.

"I mean, that, well. I want to marry you. Very much so. But it's kind of soon and early and you're still at school and I have training and we've only been back together for three months and, I mean, I love you, but I understand if you want space and time and-"

Ginny cut him off with a kiss and said, "Shut up, Potter." He shut up. "Of course I want to marry you, you humongous idiot. I've wanted to since I was a girl." She took the box without opening and stared at him. "But – and yes, there is a 'but' – I don't want to get married yet. So we could get engaged…"

"That sounds wonderful," Harry agreed quickly, just happy she hadn't said no outright.

"And not tell Mum till we're ready to start planning it," Ginny finished. Harry grinned, relieved, and nodded. She smiled and touched his face. "You actually thought I'd say no, didn't you?"

"Well," he said, a small smile on his lips, "Yeah, actually. Are you going to open it?"

"Not till you do it properly," she replied smartly, handing the box back. "On one knee, Potter."

He smiled and dropped to the floor instantly, raising the box towards her and opening it. "Ginevra Molly Weasley," he said quietly, as she stared at the ring, "Will you do the honour of marrying me one day in the future, when you're ready?"

She burst out laughing and leant down to kiss him. "Yes, Harry, I will." She picked up the ring and stared at it, raising her eyebrows at the emerald. "I expected a ruby, to be honest."

"It was my Mum's engagement ring," he admitted softly. "It was in my vault at Gringotts – put there after Mum and Dad went into hiding, for safe-keeping. Had a note with it explaining and everything." He didn't need to explain how heart-breaking that note had been for him to read – a little note reading only, 'Lily's engagement ring. Put here to keep safe for Harry'.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, staring down at the ring, with a single emerald surrounded by twisting gold. "You should keep it-"

"I want you to have it," he said. "I want you to keep it with you always. Two precious things together," he added with a small smile. "As sappy as that is. I bought a chain, as well, so you don't have to wear it on your finger – I figured you wouldn't want to tell your mum." He fished in his pocket and took out the gold chain.

Ginny took it, slipping the ring on to it, and handed it back. "Put it on me?"

He placed it around her neck gently, then leant down to kiss her on the back of the neck. "Shall we go home, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny smiled and took his hand, before replying, "I think we should."


End file.
